A Lesson Before Dying
by C3R34L.K1LL3R
Summary: Severus Snape's body lies abandoned at the Shrieking Shack. Unable to move, his mind wanders free while he waits for the end. It can take a long time to die. (Beta needed, please)
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**_

 _I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, including Severus Snape. J.K. Rowling does. I just like to play here, and hopefully don't mangle anything too badly._

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _I haven't written anything in a really long time. Constructive criticism is appreciated. This started as a oneshot, but I have a plot bunny jumping around in my head begging to be set free on the world. Tell me what you think so far?_

* * *

 **Prologue**

The thing about dying that everyone neglects to tell you is that it takes forever. Even if you go "quick". Time is just a useless measurement in your last moments. It's pretty strange that something you've used to get through every single day fails you on the last few minutes.

You know how when you're in a car wreck, how everything seems to slow down and go in slow motion right before the moment of impact? Yeah. It's like that. Except much longer.

I've been laying here for what feels like years. I can't move but I know someone should have found me by now. I know.

And in the time while you're waiting for everything to finish up, your mind goes back over everything. Remember that time you ate a booger when you were three and your mom caught you and scrunched up her nose in disgust? That was the first time you felt embarrassment for doing something weird. Something you did all the time in private. That was the moment that you figured out some things you just couldn't do in front of other people and you still ate your boogers until you were six when no one was looking.

Dying is like every late night overthinking session you've ever had. So if you think it will be some sweet release where you aren't pained by what you've done or what you may do then you have another thing coming. It's not at all. It's all of those sleepless nights magnified times ten. It's every moment of your life, every embarrassment, every victory, every hurt, every love and every broken heart in realer than real life clarity.

I can feel the blood congealing on my neck. I long to reach up and scratch it, scrape away the cooling stickiness that itches. My hair is stuck in some of it. I can tell by the minute tugging sensation as it dries in the mess.

The other two left me ages ago, thinking me already dead I suppose. I feel like I'm going to go mad, waiting to die. I've suffered so many indignities over the years and now I feel the burning of tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I'm forced to suffer this final one. At least no one will be here to witness it. No one but me will know that Severus Snape went mad before he died.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_

 _I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, including Severus Snape. J.K. Rowling does. I just like to play here, and hopefully don't mangle anything too badly._

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _I haven't written anything in a really long time. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Please Review! This started as a oneshot, but I have a plot bunny jumping around in my head begging to be set free on the world. I am actively seeking someone to beta for me! Please love Severus Snape as much as I do!_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

I remember staring up at a great big bright colorful thing that stretched as far as I could see. It was one solid color, and I liked it very much. Almost as much as mummy.

It was the brightest thing my young eyes had ever seen. I couldn't understand how it had gotten there. Where was the normal up above thing? The ceiling, mummy said it was. I saw her appear above me and struggled to focus my eyes on her, smiling. I loved mummy.

"Severus!" she cooed at me. Her hair moved around her face a little bit without anyone touching it. I reached my hands up to mummy and waved them furiously hoping that she would pick me up. She did!

"Are you looking at the sky? It's a nice clear day," she said in her rich voice. I looked up at the big thing. Is that what she was talking about? It was called sky? "There isn't a cloud in sight," she continued, not expecting me to answer. I gurgled an affirmative anyway and she gave me one of the happy faces she reserved just for me.

She continued talking to me, and began bouncing me on her knee absently while I stared at "sky" and plucked at her soft jumper clumsily. "Daddy had to work today. Too bad he couldn't come, we used to come to this spot all the time for picnics."

I didn't know what a picnic was. It must mean sitting on a blanket under sky while having your bottle. Mummy had just given me my bottle a little while before and I felt a pleasant tiredness coming over me. She must have noticed, because just then she leaned me backward and cradled me to her chest, and began gently rocking me.

"I need to get home and finish the washing before Tobias comes home, and he'll want his dinner. He'll be cross with us if it isn't ready," mummy continued talking softly. I rubbed my hand across her jumper til I found a strand of her black hair to wind in my fist. "It'll be alright, though. Nothing a little bit of the old wand can't help along. But that's our secret, my darling boy."

My eyes shuttered closed just then, as I felt her lips brush against my cheek.

When I woke, I was laying in my crib with blankie over me. It was not bright outside my window now, and sky was gone. I was staring at ceiling with the big friendly crack near the middle. It was familiar but not so nice to look at as mummy or as sky had been.

I heard loud noises coming from outside my room and turned my head toward the doorway to see if mummy was coming.

"Eileen I'd just like to come home to a good home cooked meal! I work all day and the least you could do is not burn the fucking pot roast!" that was daddy's voice, but really loud. There was a loud noise like he dropped something hard.

"I'm sorry Tobias, I had to leave the oven on low to keep it warm for you. It's not burnt, just a little dry, see?" mummy's voice was calm.

"Are you calling me a liar?!" Daddy's voice was even louder now. "Is that what you're doing, woman? I work to keep you and our son up and you're calling me a liar now?!"

"No! Tobias, it's just a little dry, here, let me put a little gravy over it for you!" mummy's voice sounded unhappy.

My nappy was wet and uncomfortable under my gown and I felt a tiny stab of hunger. Mummy could come in here and give me my bottle and change my nappy and then she might be better, instead of having loud voices with daddy. I felt my eyes welling up.

Something broke in the kitchen as it thumped against the wall. Daddy was using his loud voice but I wasn't paying attention. The thump had scared me and I couldn't help myself, I began crying and yelling for mummy to come get me. I was unhappy, mummy was unhappy, daddy was unhappy. I was hungry and wet and everything felt overwhelming.

After a minute, I heard footsteps coming toward my door hurriedly. The loud voices had stopped, but I heard mom saying, "Tobias you woke Severus up!" In another moment, she appeared above me and was picking me up. I continued crying so she would know I felt unhappy with her.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, Severus," mummy cooed at me. She leaned me against her chest and felt my bottom to see if my nappy was wet, which of course it was.

Mummy lay me down and then got all the things to change me. I gradually calmed down as she whipped off the soiled nappy with an expert flick, and fixed a new one on, making sure to powder me extra good.

She carried me with her to the kitchen, where I saw daddy hunched down on the ground wiping something off the wall. The wall had soiled itself when I had done so, I supposed. That was the thumping.

Daddy looked up when we entered the room and stood up. He had a big nose and everyone even mummy always said I looked like daddy. I reached for him and he held out his hands to receive me from mummy. He held me out from him and looked down his nose at me gravely. I reached out and gripped it for a size comparison and then his mouth smiled at me. "I'm sorry I woke you, m'boy."

Mummy had handed me over and then silently went to the wall and continued what daddy had been doing. "Eileen, don't do that. I'm sorry. I had a bad one, the boss was all down my ass today." Daddy carried me over to where mummy was kneeling by the wall and touched her shoulder, then stroked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know what came over me. That was the platter that mum and da gave us for our wedding."

I looked down at mummy hoping she wouldn't forget I needed my bottle also. She looked up at us and then stood, putting the cleaning rag down with a sigh. "I know, honey. I'm sorry the roast was dried out."

Daddy leaned us forward and put his free arm around mummy, then kissed her. "I'm an arse, I never claimed to be anything else, love. You think you can glue it?"

"I might be able to fix it," she said silkily, breaking away from him and carrying the pieces over to the sink. When she turned back daddy had started pulling one of my bottles from a cabinet and she winked at me when he wasn't looking and patted her apron pocket, where we both knew she kept her magic.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, unfortunately. I wish I was as awesome as J. K. Rowling._

 _ **Author's Note:** Please Review! Anything helps. I'd really just like to know what you think about the story thus far. I'm seeking a beta, also. I need some help with grammar, Brit picking (I'm American), and someone to toss ideas around with. If you love Severus Snape as much as I do, shoot me a message, email devotchka at rocketmail dot com or you can find me on Twitter where you hopefully won't judge me too harshly by my rants and song lyrics and my love of my bestie and pizza. I'm devotchka_error there if you want to look me up._

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

I slipped back into myself from a memory I hadn't even known I'd had. Eileen and Tobias, young, and still somewhat in love. That ghost memory that my infant mind had hidden. Maybe things would have been different if I'd been able to look back on it before now.

The sky had always been something I'd loved secretly, whether it was the inkiness of it at night time, or overcast with fluffy white and grey clouds. Best of all, I had always loved the days when it was clear and brilliantly blue, as it had been in my memory. I wished I could see it now. Instead I was unable to move my gaze from the moldering ceiling of the Shrieking Shack. It was even worse than the ceiling at Spinner's End. Cracks ran across the surface and whole chunks of plaster had fallen to dust the floor over the years.

In vain, I tried to look away. I wasn't strong enough to move my head, but I could hear the ever-slowing rush of blood between my ears. Most of my blood was on the floor or on the front of my robes. It wouldn't have bothered me to see it, the sight of blood has never made me ill as it does to some people. If I hadn't been born a wizard I might have been a doctor, or something in the medical field. I had entertained the thought of being a medi-wizard for a while before I had gotten my potion's apprenticeship with Master Jigger.

My mind drifted off in thoughts of the old man. He was the greatest potioneer I'd ever had the honor to meet. Arsenius Jigger had once, before my time, been Potion's Master and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at different times at Hogwarts. Everyone who's gone through the basic levels of potions making at Hogwarts over the last sixty years or more has read Jigger's _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and _Potions Opuscule_. In a rare moment of generosity, during my seventh year, Horace Slughorn had loaned me some of Jigger's lesser known works.

"Mister Snape, I know you're thinking of pursuing a career in potions," Slughorn began after stopping him after class one day. "I can't help but feel I've helped inspire your bright young mind, Severus, if I may. You'll need to be thinking about whom you may want to do your apprenticeship with…"

Severus watched himself as if he were a ghost from the corner of the dungeon classroom. Young, and gawky this, with still too thin, too sharp elbows and knees, he had stood in front of Slughorn's desk bouncing from heel to heel with awkward nerves. Slughorn took his time, making a show of rifling through the drawers of his desk for what he had most likely placed there just before class.

"Ah! Here we go, my boy!" Slughorn stood straight, beaming. His rotund belly had slid the drawer mostly shut in front of him before he stepped around the desk to young Severus. He held two slim volumes bound in rich green and chestnut leather. "These are some of the lesser known works of Arsenius Jigger. Much more advanced than what you've previously read of his, I'd wager. You may want to consider him, he's probably the greatest Potion's Master in Britain."

Professor Slughorn tweaked his great mustache at Severus after he took the two books in his slim hands, and smiled. "Very selective, Jigger is. I don't think he's had an apprentice in, oh, fifteen years. If you think of applying to him, I could send a letter of recommendation for you. I think you'll be a fine potioneer, one day, Severus."

Hearing such high praise from one of his professors had been one of the greatest moments of Severus' young life, and he hadn't had many.

"Thank you, Professor," the young man stammered, warm with the kind words. "I'll read them straightaway. I'll be very careful with them."

"I know you, will, my boy." Professor Slughorn had ambled back around his desk to sit his ample weight back into his chair. "Off with you, then, before you're late for your next class."

Severus had tucked the leather-bound volumes into his bag carefully and then made haste out the door.

Slowly his vision settled on the cracked ceiling that was now above him and the memory faded away from his mind's eye. Reluctantly back in the real world for the time being, Severus heard explosions and cracks of spell work in the distance. _Good,_ he thought, _if the battle is still on, the Dark Lord hasn't won, yet._

Momentarily his thoughts drifted to Harry and he wondered if he'd made it to his office to use the pensieve to view the gift he'd given him. Severus tried to conjure up Lily's face, but it seemed fuzzy in his mind's eye. He had given the best of his memories of her to Harry. He hadn't expected to live long after Nagini had bitten him, but her venom had been diluted from the potions the Dark Lord had been using to sustain him and make him more powerful over the last months.

Severus pushed away the fuzzy vision of his redheaded friend and went back to thinking about when he'd finally met Jigger.

The day had been chilly and damp from rainfall the night before. Severus had apparated to a small lane just outside Holyhead, on Slughorn's directions. Mud squelched and sucked at his boots as he trudged uphill to a grey stone cottage with a thin tendril of smoke drifting from the chimney. He noted that he didn't see any other dwellings close by. Wizard folk always seemed to live in seclusion so they wouldn't be found out by their muggle neighbors. However, Severus knew that though Holyhead was a small seaport town, it probably had a decent wizarding population. It was, after all, the home of the Holyhead Harpies, the all-female quidditch team.

He made it to the garden gate and stood there for a few minutes to see if anyone came to the door. When no one did, Severus unlatched the gate, swinging in back just short of the stone garden wall, and then marched purposefully toward the front door. He heard the gate swing shut behind him and he tromped up the steps to rap on the door.

Sounds of shuffling came from within and an elderly man answered the door. He had shoulder length white cottony hair and piercing blue eyes. His face was weathered but he stood straight and almost level with Severus himself. "Yes? How can I help you, young man?"

"Master Jigger? My name is Severus Snape. I've come to humbly ask if you would take me as an apprentice," Severus reached into the pocket of his travel cloak and pulled out a pristine roll of cream colored parchment. "I have a letter of recommendation from Professor Slughorn at Hogwarts-"

The old man stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Yes, yes. Slughorn wrote me last week to say you'd be coming. I'm much too busy to interview for an apprentice."

"Master Jigger I've come a long way, I could-"

"Much too busy!" Jigger repeated loudly, withdrawing. He then promptly shut the door mere centimeters from Severus' large nose.

Severus gazed blankly at the door for a few moments, then, undeterred, knocked smartly on the wood once more. This time he heard cursing before the door was flung open.

"Boy, are you deaf? I'm too busy to bother with you!" The blue eyes blazed in the heavily lined face, but Severus also thought he saw amusement curling at the thin lips.

"Master Jigger I could help you! Just tell me what to do, I'm very competent at following instruction and you can interview me while we work!"

Master Jigger had looked him up and down consideringly. "Well! Get in here then!" he snapped. "I haven't got all day!"

Triumphantly, Severus crossed the threshold.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So, readers, what do you think? I wasn't able to find very much information on Arsenius Jigger, and I can't find any references that actually say that he was the Master that Severus did his apprenticeship with. I didn't think it likely that Slughorn would have had time to take him on, though, since he was still teaching at Hogwarts. I also don't know much about Holyhead, just what I found on Google. I just remembered the team from when I read Quidditch Through the Ages and I'd always liked the team name. If Quidditch were something I could watch on television over the weekend, I'd probably be cheering for the Holyhead Harpies._


	4. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money off of this. I'm just doing it for fun, to entertain myself and hopefully others. All rights to Harry Potter are owned by J. K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and probably some other people I'm too lazy to look up._

 ** _Author's_** _**Note:** This chapter is quite a bit longer than all of the others. I didn't notice quite how short they were until I had a chance to look over them after posting. Also Severus is a bit stilted and coming in and out of various states of consciousness in the beginning, as you might have noticed when he is reliving one of his memories as an infant. Things are going to start picking up, so stick with me, guys._

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Severus was torn from his reverie by a spell blast that shook the house. Plaster rained down upon his grey and clammy face. Thankfully it missed getting into his eyes as he squeezed them shut. He had no idea what the hour was, the little light that came in through the window told that the night sky still reigned supreme outside. Then he heard something.

It was the shuffling and scrape of footsteps cautiously making their way through the house. Internally, he shook himself. He must be hallucinating, now. Who would be coming through the Shrieking Shack at this late in the battle? Maybe one of the students, come to seek shelter from the warzone outside.

He steeled himself. If one of the students came in to this room, they would probably be overjoyed to find Hogwart's most recent headmaster dead, or still dying. They'd be more than glad to give him a swift kick or three, he had no delusions that he'd been the favorite of any more than just a few of his Slytherins.

The footsteps came closer, cautiously. There only seemed to be one set. Severus Snape was not a religious man, but in that moment he began to pray silently that before that person, whoever it was, entered the room where he was, his body would exhaust itself finally. He had no wish to be humiliated further.

The door creaked open. Even though he couldn't see who had entered, he felt their eyes on him. He stared at the ceiling blankly before the urge overcame him and he blinked, slowly, languid. There was a flurry of footsteps as the visitor rushed over to him and he braced himself for the blows.

They never came. Instead he saw a tangled waterfall of bushy brown hair in front of him. _Granger,_ he thought.

"Professor!" she began to babble excitedly. "I was hoping that you hadn't given up, yet. I'm so glad no one found you before I could get back. Here!" A vial of pale blue opalescent liquid was thrust into his mouth and he choked as he had no choice but to swallow it. It was vile. So this was her revenge for all of the times that he'd embarrassed her in class.

Severus was still trying to swipe the nasty fish oil taste of the potion from his mouth as Granger began to wave her wand around, silently mouthing incantations as pale blue and green ribbons of magic shot forth from her wand. His throat began to feel warm and then unbearably hot. The little twit was going to finish him off by suffocating him!

Involuntarily, his eyes began to close. He felt the light movement of the air around him as Granger continued to wave her wand around like an idiot. Then another vial was thrust into his mouth.

"Drink." He resolutely squeezed his mouth tightly shut. He would not be tortured in the moments before his death. "Drink it, you stubborn man!" The vial was unceremoniously upended into his mouth and he sputtered as he was forced to choke it down as well. This one tasted of rosemary and mint.

He felt himself losing consciousness as Granger muttered to herself and then felt her open his hand and put something into it.

"… all I can do… Pomfrey!….."

Then he blacked out.

* * *

He was floating. No, he was sitting. On an invisible bench in the brightest room he had ever been in. A bit disconcerted, Severus reached down and felt the bench beneath him, the slightly cool feeling of stained and well-worn wood. When he looked down, he could see the bench now beneath his fingers.

"It takes a bit of getting used to, my boy."

Severus turned to his other side, and a familiar figure sat before him on the other side of the bench. The old man was wearing spangled robes, and as he crossed his legs Severus noticed he was wearing purple and yellow argyle socks. His long white beard and hair were as bright as he had ever seen them, even more so because of the sterile whiteness of the large room around them.

"Am I dead?" he asked, bluntly, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Do you feel as if you are dead, Severus?" the same maddening twinkle he'd had while living shone in the old man's eyes.

"If I am, you aren't who I'd hoped to see first," he replied darkly, and the old coot smiled impossibly wider.

"If you were, I suppose the first person you'd like to see would have had somewhat more colorful hair, I daresay."

Severus said nothing. They both knew that after nearly twenty years he was ready to see Lily, if he could. He also wasn't quite ready to face Dumbledore.

"Ah, Severus, you know that's not how it works all of the time. And I don't blame you, dear boy. You simply did everything I asked of you. You've carried out your duties to the very end, to every last detail." The wrinkled, but no longer blackened hand reached out to clasp Severus's pale, thin one briefly.

He frowned a bit but didn't flinch away from the contact. "I'm still sorry. Even though it's what you wanted, the guilt has been unbearable at times." He swallowed thickly and then continued, "So, I really am dead then?"

"Do you want to be?" Dumbledore asked mysteriously, once again. "Severus you've done more than your fair share of work for the cause. You've earned every right to rest if that's what you want." He plucked at a stray strand on his robes, and then pulled a watch from his pocket and gave it a glance. He frowned at it and then looked up, past Severus's head, and broke into a smile.

"Well, Severus, I must be off. There's someone else here to see you, and I have some business to attend to," Dumbledore stood and clasped Severus's hands in his. "It was good to see you, dear boy." He extended his hand out to someone behind the dark-haired man and a small, paled hand took it.

Turning, Severus drank in the sight of her. Her bright red hair and eyes which had seemed so fuzzy when he had tried to recall them earlier were a beacon. "Lily," he breathed.

She smiled up at him. "Severus, my friend, it's wonderful to see you," Lily said, her voice music to his ears. "I'm sorry I'm late, I had some business to attend to. Sit with me."

Gesturing to the bench he had absently vacated in her presence, she sat primly and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her legs were pale and she wore a muggle sundress she had favored while a teenager. Numbly, Severus said beside her, unable to stop staring.

"It's good to see you, as well, Lily. I had hoped you would be here when I…" he found himself unable to continue and only swallowed at the lump forming in his throat.

"I know, Severus. I had to see Harry."

"Is he… here, too? Did he fail?"

"No. No he didn't fail."

Severus sighed in relief, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thank God. Thank God." His shoulders slumped and he relaxed against the bench for what felt like the first time in years.

Her teeth shone, luminescent almost in the white room, as she smiled at him. "Severus, thank you for taking care of my son these years. It means so much to me."

"You're welcome Lily. I tried my best, in my own way."

"I know. Sometimes you were more of a prat than you needed to be," she chuckled darkly at his stunned expression. "I know that's your way."

"Your son is kind of a little knob, sometimes, Lily!" he sputtered, his pale cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she continued laughing.

"Yes, I know. He takes after his father like that. I've always had a fondness for you difficult men." Lily patted his hand warmly.

Severus allowed himself a few moments to bask in the comfort of the presence of his best friend and childhood sweetheart before he asked the gnawing question inside him. "So, since I'm dead and you're here, does this mean I'm going to heaven and not hell after all?"

"Oh, are you dead?" Lily asked teasingly.

He frowned at her. "I hate how you and he keep saying that, as if I'm not."

"Do you want to be?" she asked and his frown deepened further. "Severus, stop scowling. It's a wonder you don't have as many wrinkles as Dumbledore."

Severus smirked at that. "I didn't ever really want to die, but it seemed like it would be more peaceful than everything I've had to deal with up until this point. Dumbledore has said more than once that death is the next great adventure."

Lily smiled kindly. "Your life has never really been your own, Severus. You may not believe this, but life isn't woeful for everyone all the time. You've never realized true love, never felt the warmth of your child's touch, and never really had the freedom to live up to your real potential."

A single tear ran down his cheek as she said this and he swiped angrily at it. "I know. All because mistakes made in the ignorant haste of youth. Lily, you're the only person I ever loved…"

"I know, Severus. I'm not saying this to be cruel."

"I know. I know, it's just… I always loved you. I never really got to tell you how much. I'm not so foolish that I can't understand now, that things happened as they had to. Who's to say if I hadn't been such a fool what would have happened? If you would have still wound up with James?" Severus clasped her hand tightly and charged on. "But you did. I understand that. I just wish I'd gotten a chance to ever let you know how much I loved you and how much your friendship meant to me. I've had to wait all these years to tell you."

Tears were spilling from her beautiful green eyes now and Lily leaned in to hug him tightly. "I know, Severus. I wish you hadn't carried that awful feeling inside your heart for all this time. You're the best friend I've ever had, and all I've ever wanted was for you to be happy." She released him finally, and wiped at her eyes, then gave him a watery smile.

Severus wiped at his eyes again and returned her smile with a small upturn of his thin lips.

"Now," she began, tapping her thighs as she always had when getting down to the important business, "You've earned every right to rest and move on, if you like, Severus. However, if you'd like, you can do everything you never had a chance to."

What do you mean?" Severus raised an incredulous dark eyebrow as he spoke. "I'm not actually dead?"

"Not if you don't want to be. You can still go back and have a chance at a fulfilled, happy life," the redheaded witch replied. She waved her hand just in front of them, gesturing at a space of inky blue darkness that hadn't been there just moments before. "You have a chance for a life of love and light and the pursuit of happiness."

He stared at the swirling galactic miasma of blue and purple and sat stiffly on the bench.

"You have to make the decision, Severus."

He turned back to look at his friend, his first friend, smiling at him. He'd waited all this time to talk to her and had finally gotten the weight of so many words off his chest, and it felt damn good. But now, he had another decision to make. He looked back at the portal and sat in silence with the comforting presence of Lily beside him.

Finally, he looked back at her, still smiling, with her flaming hair forming a halo around her head in the brightness of what he now realized was a train station. She stood with him, and he leaned down, gently pulling her into an embrace.

"I'm so glad I got to see, you again, Lily." He felt her small hands pat him on the back firmly before he released her. "Until we meet again."

With that, he turned, black robes swirling around him as he strode resolutely into the dark portal.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I decided not to really leave on much of a cliffhanger. I wanted everything in this chapter, especially Severus's interactions with Lily to be nice and squared away. After all, this will hopefully be the last time he sees her for a long time. If anyone is wondering, yes Severus is also in the space between worlds that Harry visited in Deathly Hollows. The train station, or whatever people were likely to see, was quite busy that night at Hogwarts. When Dumbledore leaves Severus, he is on his way to have his conversation with Harry. If you liked this, or if you hated it even, please review, and let me know what you think. Please feed me pizza or reviews, haha._


	5. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making money off of this. J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. own the rights and I'm just making castles in their sandbox._

 _ **Author's Note:** Hello everyone, thanks for all the reads and thank you to my reviewers, where ever you may be. I appreciate the kind words and virtual pizza.I tried to wait til the weekend to post, but I just couldn't stop myself... I had an infestation of plot bunnies taking over my brain this week. I hope you enjoy the chapter. If not, well… as always, tell me so! On the plus side… I have a lot of story material for the future written down._

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Hermione Granger had been in what was left of the hospital wing for a week. First she had been there as a patient. That lasted for all of fifteen minutes while some volunteer medi-witches that had come from St. Mungo's after the battle had patched her up. Her injuries had been pretty minor compared to some others. That included the man that she was watching now.

After she had portkeyed Professor Snape to the hospital wing during the battle, she had made sure he was safely tucked away and then resumed fending off the Death Eaters. She had put him under a stasis spell before she left with Harry to view Snape's memories, and it had, amazingly to her, held.

Hermione had hurried back as quickly as she could, all things considered, with a Dilitrio potion and the Velonia mixed with essence of dittany. Thank Merlin, he had been too weakened to fight her very much. The potions had a nasty stench and couldn't have tasted much better. In fact, just as they had arrived back at the castle, Hermione had thought all of her efforts had been for naught and that the dark haired man had died in the moments it had taken to get there from the Shrieking Shack.

Somehow, he had prevailed. His memories may be enough to exonerate Severus Snape of the murder of Albus Dumbledore and prove his activities as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix during the second war. In the meantime, Madam Pomfrey threatened any witch or wizard within an inch of their life who dared to disturb her patient. The only person who had been allowed to visit him regularly was Hermione herself, and then only for an hour at a time, three times a day.

Ron didn't understand why she kept visiting Professor Snape and harrumphed and sulked before she left for each visit with a book in tow. Harry had kept quiet about it. He had been to visit the man twice himself, but had only stayed for a few minutes each time. A get well card and small flower arrangement had also appeared on the Potions Masters' bedside table. There was no name attached, but Hermione knew they were from the bespectacled young man.

Hermione realized that she had fallen silent and let her book, _The Handmaid's Tale_ , drift shut, and to her lap. She wasn't even sure that had Severus Snape been awake he would have appreciated her choice of reading material, but she had read a study in a medical journal over holidays a few years ago that had said it helped if you read to coma patients. Muggle fiction was her guilty pleasure. _Besides,_ she reasoned, _he isn't exactly in a position to complain._

Rubbing at her eyes wearily with one hand and holding the book with the other, Hermione stood and stretched the stiffness from her limbs. After a quick glance at the magical wall clock over Madam Pomfrey's office, she began to gather her things. The kindly witch had allowed her to stay past visiting hours for the severely injured section of the hospital wing, but Hermione had no wish to press her luck.

Aside from that, she'd be glad to sneak off to the prefect's bathroom for a soak in the tub. Her time alone had been scarce this past week, what with reporters from the Daily Prophet descending on the school, well-meaning volunteers from the magical community, and Molly Weasley fussing over all of them whilst grieving.

 _That wasn't even to mention Ron_ , she thought as she waved to the medi-witch on her way out, shutting the door to the hospital wing quietly behind her. He was grieving along with the rest of his family, and had demanded much of her attention as well. _Though he certainly isn't lacking in female attention_ , this last bit she heard her inner voice say a bit nastily, thinking of the young witches especially that had been gazing at him adoringly.

Hermione turned the corner and almost crashed headlong into Professor McGonagall.

"Oh Professor! I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," the young witch apologized.

"Quite alright, Miss Granger. No harm done." The deputy headmistress smiled genially at her. "How is he?"

"Who? Oh! Professor Snape is much the same, I'm afraid," Hermione replied, hoisting her bag more comfortably on her shoulder. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, though Madam Pomfrey has said his vital signs have showed significant improvement."

"That's good to hear. I was just on my way to look in on him," the elder witch clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "The last time I spoke to him… I… I was so harsh."

Hermione tentatively reached forward and gripped the Scottish witch's shoulder reassuringly. "Things were rather tense, that night, Professor. No one knew what his part truly was in all of this."

Professor McGonagall nodded, her lips in a thin line. "Yes, well, I'd better be going. Madam Pomfrey won't be keen on allowing me in to disturb his rest more the longer I hold off." She patted Hermione's hand fondly and the two parted ways.

Shortly Hermione had passed the statue of Boris the Bewildered and murmured the password for the bathroom, "Scrubbing bubbles." She had the passing thought that it was odd the password was a muggle household cleaner and allowed herself a small smile as she slipped into the room.

Carefully, she sat her bag well away from the tub and then began turning the taps. The pool like tube began filling rapidly with pink foam and lavender bubbles, and she went to place her clothing near her bag. She pulled a medical text she had been poring over the night before and placed a waterproofing charm on it and then went back to the tub. The scent of roses, lilac, and the smallest hint of something minty filled the air above the tub and she slipped gratefully into the water. She set her wand and the book on the tile near the edge and did a few laps on her back.

Thankful that no one else was in the room, she floated peacefully. The lavender bubbles floated up from the tub, some gently popping every now and then. After a few minutes, she rose up and paddled back to the edge of the pool. Hermione tried not to splash any more water than was necessary onto the tile as she grabbed for her book.

Flipping through the pages, she came to the point she had left off the night before.

* * *

 _ **Magical Coma in the Modern Age**_

… _One of the most puzzling magical maladies of the modern age is the state of being comatose. A coma is a deep state of unconsciousness. The inability to waken differentiates a coma from magical induced sleep. Levels of unconsciousness and unresponsiveness vary depending on what level the brain of the witch or wizard may be functioning at. This includes responsiveness of the magic of the person in question._

 _In general, professional medi-witches and wizards will do a series of tests in order to try to ascertain the reason for the coma. This will also help them to determine the course of treatment to apply._

 _The coma may have any variety of causes. Intoxication, magical diseases related to the central nervous system, a serious injury or oxygen deprivation are some ailments that may be to blame. Coma can also be induced deliberately with potions in order to protect the patient from intense pain during the healing process, or to preserve and protect higher brain functioning during traumatic head injury._

 _Comas generally do not last for more than a few weeks. A longer lasting comatose state may be reclassified as a persistent vegetative state. Unfortunately, a patient in a vegetative state lasting longer than twelve months will rarely wake up…._

* * *

The book went on to describe some of the tests that would be used to determine the cause of the coma and treatments. It also gave a list for further reading. Hermione closed it and pushed it away.

She allowed herself to float on her back again, drifting serenely toward the center of the tub while she was lost in thought. Madam Pomfrey had done several tests and scans on Professor Snape. She didn't know if any of them monitored brain activity, but Madam Pomfrey had told her that since his vitals were good that the best thing for right now would be rest, and on Hermione's insistence, she allowed the young witch to visit and read to him.

However, Hermione was determined that everything that could be done for the professor would indeed, be done. She would go in search of some of the other books mentioned tomorrow. While she didn't doubt the medi-witch's capabilities in the slightest, she had several patients to look after and only a small handful of the volunteers that had descended on Hogwarts were also medical trained. It certainly couldn't hurt for Hermione to try some other methods to help Professor Snape along.

She heard a voice and shot straight up in the tub, arms going to cover her breasts. Most of the foam and bubbles had disappeared by now. "Who's there?" she asked, alarmed.

"Just me, dear," said a feminine voice from behind her. Hermione turned, her wand now gripped in one water wrinkled hand with the other still covering her chest. The mermaid in the painting above the tub was languidly combing her fingers through her hair.

Hermione lowered her wand. "Sorry, you frightened me. I thought someone had come in."

"It's fine, dear. I just said you're going to catch a chill trying to be a mermaid. Your bath has gone cold!"

Indeed, it had. The young witch shivered involuntarily as she realized her arms were covered in gooseflesh. She cast a temporary warming charm on the room and hurriedly finished her bath.

Hermione clambered out of the tub and dried off as quickly as she could. She had stayed in the bath far too long, and was about to miss dinner. After she got her clothes back on and had tucked her book away, she waved her wand to clean the mess of water off the tiled floors somewhat, then fairly ran from the room.

"Bye, dearie!" the mermaid called behind her, as the door slammed shut.

 _ **A/N:**_ _The potions mentioned in this chapter that Hermione gave to Professor Snape are some I made up myself, from the Greek words for 'venom' and 'stitch'. I'm not well versed in any language other than English so if you're a native Greek speaker I apologize if I mangled it. I know that when J. K. Rowling was inventing spells and potions names for the books she took her inspiration from Latin, Greek, and Aramaic languages. I feel like Latin is a little over used in fanfiction so I just wanted to do something different._

 _The article on magical comas is based on actual research and information about real life comas. Some of the information was derived from Medical News Today, and from various other sources, including my good friend, Julie, a nurse. I just kind of twisted it for my own means for the magical medical community._

 _Thanks so much for reading and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far! Thank you to my reviewers and for the pizza and encouragement! And a special thanks to my best friend, Autumn, who lets me bother her at all times of the night. I love you, you're the bestest!_


	6. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**_ _: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making money off of this. J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. own the rights and I'm just making castles in their sandbox._

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Hello my lovelies! Thank you to all the new readers and those of you following the story. I feel encouraged every time one of you favorites or follows. Updates have been pretty frequent and will continue to be until the end of April at least, since I'm participating in Camp NaNoWriMo. I don't have a beta, still, and as such, have no one to bounce ideas off of, and it will help me a lot if you guys tell me what you think. So as always, thank you for reading and please review!_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

He was aware that he had been laying here for some time, but Severus wasn't exactly sure about how long that was. He had perceived people being nearby. Indistinct voices seemed to whisper around him. They seemed familiar but he wasn't able to place them.

One of the voices had been there much more than any other and he'd been able to catch snatches of what it said. It was feminine. At times, it seemed to be reading passages from a book. Not very long ago it had been there.

" _I t_ _ry to conjure, to raise my own spirits, from wherever they are. I need to remember what they look like. I try to hold them still behind my eyes, their faces, like pictures in an album. But they won't stay still for me, they move, there's a smile and it's gone, their features curl and bend as if the paper's burning, blackness eats them. A glimpse, a pale shimmer on the air; a glow, aurora, dance of electrons, then a face again, faces. But they fade, though I stretch out my arms towards them, they slip away from me, ghosts at daybreak. Back to wherever they are. Stay with me, I want to say. But they won't._ _  
_ _It's my fault. I am forgetting too much."_

Oddly enough, Severus knew exactly how that felt. He had felt it before he had gone to the spirit realm. While he lay dying in the Shrieking Shack, he had tried to conjure up Lily's face and she had been fuzzy, slipping away from him. He tried now to conjure up a face that went with the voice reading to him from an unknown book.

All that he came up with was a niggling feeling of annoyance, though he wasn't annoyed at the speaker at the moment. He felt as if he had become insane with moments of sanity, that the voice brought to him like water to a parched throat. The words tugged at a place in his chest that had been nearly forgotten. He found himself longing for the times when he could make out that singular voice, for all that Severus seemed to know in between the times when he could make out what it was saying was darkness.

He felt that he may be in a coma, whether it was from his injury or from a potion he'd been given. As a potions master, Severus had a bit more than the average wizard's understanding of magical medicine. He remembered someone coming to him before he'd gone and spoke with Albus and Lily, but he couldn't recall who, or what they had given him.

In the darkness where he floated now, Severus concentrated. He concentrated hard. Who had been there? It was the voice, he felt. But who was it?

Severus had the same niggling feeling of annoyance and then slowly a vision began to materialize in the darkness. It was less than a ghost of an image. He strained forward, trying to get a better look. It was a woman. He had the impression of bushy hair, otherwise nondescript.

Willing the woman to turn around, he floated helplessly in the place that was nothing but his unconscious mind. Then she did. Her brown, bushy hair floated around her thin, pale face. The eyes sparkled with intelligence, also brown, and the mouth was curved into a smile. She wore muggle clothes: jeans, sneakers, and a pale blue jumper. It was Hermione Granger.

Why would Hermione Granger be visiting him in the hospital, he wondered. Not that he wasn't thankful she'd come to his rescue, now that he knew he would have another chance at a better life, but there didn't seem to be a reason for her continued visits. Severus was determined, however, not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd spent far too much time being suspicious of everyone's motives in his other life, and he was tired of it.

Aside from that, Hermione Granger, persistent little witch that she was, may be able to help break him out of this dismal hell.

Resolved to make his presence known the next time she visited, Severus settled back to plan. Granger's image shimmered away, and he was left once again in the impenetrable darkness.

* * *

After dinner Hermione had gone back to the Gryffindor girls' dorm and fairly fell into her bed. She woke early the next morning intending to scour the library for some of the books mentioned in the _Magical Comas_ article. Ginny had walked in to remind her they were leaving for the memorial services for those that had died during the Battle. _Including George,_ Hermione thought guiltily. _Including Remus, and Tonks. How could I have forgotten?_

Her friend had slipped back out as quietly as she had entered the room and Hermione was left alone to dress in silence. She put on her nicest and most somber robes. There was nothing to be done for her hair, really, so she twisted it up behind her head in a bun, attempting to slick down the small stray hairs that had willfully escaped everywhere.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville met up with her in the common room. The Weasleys were both exceptionally pale, today. Hermione walked up to Ron and squeezed his hand, which he returned gingerly. They exited the portrait hole together and made their way down to the front hall to meet up with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Charlie, Bill and Fleur. The remaining members of the Weasley family had been staying in rooms prepared in the castle for those who had been in the battle. Many members of the Order of the Phoenix were still there, helping rebuild, recovering from injuries, and helping the Aurors track down some Death Eaters who were believed to be hiding out in the Forbidden Forest. The Auror department even had a base camp set up near the forest.

The rest of the day was a blur. Molly Weasley had broken down into a wailing fit of tears while Arthur and Charlie, who sat on either side of her tried to comfort her while their faces were also notably damp. There didn't seem to be anyone with dry eyes, actually. George had sat stony faced through the entire thing with silent tears coursing down his cheeks.

When the time came for Remus and Tonks' joint service, Hermione could hear little Teddy Lupin in the arms of his grandmother crying. He was far too young to understand what was happening, but even an infant could feel the palpable tension and sadness about the ceremonies. Andromeda Tonks rocked and shushed the babe while she herself was crying.

Afterward, there was a reception for friends and family of the deceased. The house elves had put forth their best effort at comfort food, but the Great Hall remained fairly silent until it was time for the families to take their loved ones to their final rest. Hermione had gone with the Weasleys, while Harry, as Teddy Lupin's godfather, had gone with the Tonks'. He had apologized profusely, but Molly was having none of it.

"It's your duty to go with Remus, Harry," she told him with a watery smile. "We all know you loved George, but you have a responsibility to that child. Today is hard in all kinds of ways." She had begun sniffling again and hurriedly walked away with Arthur going after her.

The Weasleys had a small family plot near Ottery St. Catchpole in St. Mary's cemetery. When Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been killed during the First Wizarding War, Molly had their remains taken to St. Mary's as well. She had requested that Fred's body lay next to theirs'.

Everyone had tea at the Burrow. Molly Weasley had seemed somewhat better as she bustled around the small kitchen with Fleur and the other two girls helping to lay out the tea things. They had taken the refreshments with a bit more chatter than earlier.

After they had helped clean the kitchen, Bill and Fleur had apparated back to Shell Cottage. Hermione had apparated back to Hogsmeade alone, to allow the family some time alone in their grief. She decided to spend a little time in the small town before she walked back to the castle.

Hogsmeade was busy. Aurors were everywhere here, as well, and the townsfolk were still setting things to right in some places. Shops and houses here had taken less damage than Hogwarts had, but they had by no means been left unmarked. The sign for the Hog's Head was laying on its side against the wall of the pub. The front window for Zonko's had been replaced but the paint around it was chipped and scorched and glass littered the street where it had been broken.

She decided to stop off in Tomes and Scrolls for a bit. The book shop had taken surprisingly little damage, Hermione was pleased to see. The shopkeeper greeted her as she went in.

A short balding wizard with brownish hair walked up to her, arms full of books. "Good afternoon, Miss. Can I help you find anything?"

"Can you point me in the direction of anything on memory charms and reversal?" she asked him.

He pointed her toward the back of the store. "I'm afraid the books are in a bit of a mess, but they're normally on the back row near the middle. They should be near Mnemone Radford's work if they're in the right place."

"Thanks so much."

Hermione made her way through the books. She skimmed over the titles, looking for anything that might have to do with memory loss retrieval, or memory charms in general. She'd like to be able to go find her parents soon, but memory charms were tricky to break. She remembered how Bertha Jorkins had never truly recovered from Peter Pettigrew breaking the memory charm placed on her.

Mostly the shelf seemed to be stocked with books she had already. All of the Standard Book of Spells works were present, of course. She finally found what she was looking for on the bottom shelf. _Fill in the Blanks by Ruthbert Gerkwin, Modyfying the Memory by Mnemone Radford_ and _The Ars Notoria translated by William Turner_ all looked promising and she took them to the counter.

The shopkeeper hurried behind the counter. "Found what you need, miss?"

"Yes Mr.- "

"Quentin."

"Thanks, Mr. Quentin. I think I'll have these three."

He rang them up on the till and started to bag them for her. "That'll be five galleons and fifteen sickles. Is that all for you?"

"You wouldn't happen to carry self-inking quills and maybe a field journal, would you?"

"We do, just a moment." The short man went and retrieved a small plainly bound book from the other side of the counter and pushed a container of quills and ink toward her. He added their price to the total while she picked out a quill and inkpot. She paid him and gathered up her purchases.

"Thanks for visiting Tomes and Scrolls, and come back to see us soon?" he called from behind a stack of scrolls as she left.

Hermione hurried on her way. The village clock told her it would soon be time for visiting hours in the hospital wing and she had already missed her first visit with Professor Snape today. She took the packages up to Gryffindor tower and dumped them unceremoniously on her bed, grabbed _The Handmaid's Tale_ and then dashed back out of the room to the hospital wing.

* * *

The voice was back. Miss Granger's voice. Her soft voice floated to him in the dark, reading a passage from another book, or maybe the same book. Severus concentrated on her voice and willed himself to make contact with her.

Contrary to popular belief, one did not have to make eye contact with someone to enter their mind. Not if you were a skilled Legilimens practitioner. _Which I am,_ thought Severus. He forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Eye contact just made things exponentially easier.

Severus Snape had some measure of pride that he was able to use legilimens wandlessly and without uttering a sound. In his weakened state, however, he seemed to be having no luck whatsoever. After straining for what felt like half an hour to break through his ersatz prison and make his awareness known to Miss Granger, he tired. If there were some way he could have made eye contact, he might have gotten through to her. _In this state, I might as well put on a grass skirt and dance the hula for all she'd notice,_ he thought sourly.

Instead of being embittered, Severus resolved to enjoy the rest of her visit as much as he could. She had continued to read to him undisturbed, and he began to find himself a bit entranced with her voice. Miss Granger read softly, as if afraid of being overheard. _She probably is, since she seems to be trying to change her voice for each character._

After a while longer, she abruptly stopped. He thought she'd gone when she began talking again. "Well, I'll be off then. Madam Pomfrey will be out to rouse me away soon, anyway." Severus realized she was speaking directly to him, instead of reading. That she was leaving. Part of him felt wistful, and wished she would stay longer. He shoved it away, and down deep. Severus was reluctant to admit he was starting to feel as if Miss Granger were the only thing standing between him and the precipice of madness.

"I'd stay longer if I could, but you know the rules." He started. She had nearly answered his own damned thoughts! "Don't worry, I'll be back later on. I'm just going to the library to see if I can find anything about waking you up."

 _Legilimency! Legilimens!_ Severus called out to her. He concentrated with all his might. Look up _Legilimency!_

Hermione had gathered up her bag and was walking out the door. Severus didn't see any of this, only heard what might have been retreating footsteps. Since her back was turned, she didn't see the static blue spark that ran over the pale hands resting on the coverlet.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _The quoted passage at the beginning of the chapter is from_ **The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood** _. I chose to have Hermione read it to Severus just because it's one of my favorite books and I'm super excited for the series premiere this month on Hulu._

 _I made up St. Mary's. I can't find anything about where the Prewetts are from and some people think that Fred and George were name in favor of Molly's brothers Fabian and Gideon. I thought it would be appropriate to bury Fred next to them._

 _Mr. Quentin is a character I made up just because a shop can't mind itself, can it? William Turner and Ruthbert Gerkwin as well._

 _Mnemone Radford is one of J. K. Rowling's creations. She was the witch who first developed memory charms, and was the first Ministry of Magic Obliviator. Her name probably came from the Greek goddess of memory, Mnemosyne._

 _I also invented the books, except for_ **The Ars Notoria** _. I think that it's a part of the_ **Lesser Key of Solomon** _, which I admit I don't know much about. The text apparently deals with attaining a great memory, though. It's available on esotericaarchives dot com in the Latin and English translation if you want to look at it._

 _I hope you enjoyed reading, please review!_


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